Romance Backstage. Kim Shaw

until nine o’clock,” he asked.

      Raven shrugged her shoulders.

      “By nine o’clock I’m usually catching my second wind. Got it from my dad who’s friends with the early bird and his worm,” she replied. “What about you? How early do the stagehands have to report?”

      Dru didn’t respond right away. He studied her face silently.

      “You’re an amazing dancer,” he said at last.

      “Thank you,” Raven responded, noting the conspicuous change of subject.

      “How long have you been dancing?”

      “My mom says that I danced before I walked, but I think she’s exaggerating.”

      Because most people did not know that Raven was adopted as a toddler, Lorraine’s exaggerated boasting about her daughter’s talent went unchecked. However, lately Raven found herself bristling under it. She shook that thought from her mind and returned her attention to Dru, whose piercing eyes were still studying her as he leaned against the side of the stage’s steps.

      “What were you listening to?” he asked, pointing to the iPod on her arm.

      “Anita Baker.”

      “Anita Baker? What could you possibly know about Miss Baker, as young as you are?”

      “I didn’t know you had to be a certain age to enjoy good music,” Raven countered indignantly. “Besides, you don’t know how old I am, and you’d better not even think about asking me.”

      Dru laughed, raising his hands in surrender. “All right, no need to punch my lights out, Rocky.”

      “You didn’t answer my question,” Raven reminded.

      She’d grown increasingly curious about this Dru Davis, especially since this game of twenty-one questions had become completely one-sided.

      “I’m not part of the stage crew,” he said simply.

      “Oh, I just assumed…”

      Raven looked more closely at Dru’s face, trying to figure out if he was one of the dancers who’d auditioned yesterday. She dismissed that theory, realizing that a man as good-looking as he was would have been hard to overlook, no matter how preoccupied she was by the grueling audition.

      “I’m sorry, but should I know you?” she asked finally.

      It was Dru’s turn to shrug nonchalantly.

      “I don’t see why you would. I’m just a regular guy who works behind the scenes.”

      The theater flooded with lights just as Raven opened her mouth to reply.

      “Hey, Dru, my man, you’re here already. I was just about to give you a call to see if you wanted to meet for coffee since we didn’t get to talk yesterday. How’s it going?”

      “Marv, I’m good, man. It’s great to be back in the city, that’s for sure.”

      Marvin Barkley approached the stage and the two men shook hands and embraced, smacking each other on their backs.

      “I guess it would be a nice change of pace after spending an entire year abroad. You’ll have to tell me all about your trip. Your father’s doing a great thing over there.”

      Barkley turned suddenly to face Raven. “Good morning, Miss Walker.”

      Raven’s surprise that the man knew her name registered all over her face. She quickly recovered, flashed a smile and said, “Good morning, Mr. Barkley.”

      “Marvin. Call me Marvin. We’re going to be working together every day from now until what will seem like forever.”

      Raven nodded. “In that case, why don’t you call me Raven. It certainly beats ‘pink shirt,’” she said, smiling.

      “Touché,” Barkley replied. “I see you’ve met the illustrious Dru Davis?”

      “Sort of,” Raven said, her eyes linking with Dru’s once again. “Well, I guess I’ll leave you gentlemen to your business.”

      Raven retrieved her duffel bag and headed backstage. She was well aware that Dru’s eyes followed her until she was out of sight, their warm rays caressing her retreating frame as she departed.

      Chapter 3

      Catch Me If You Can

      “Raven, Raven Walker…wait up,” a voice called as Raven stepped out onto the busy Manhattan street.

      It was two o’clock and rehearsal had just ended. An exhausted cast filed out of the theater, headed to their various other obligations. Raven was planning to hop on the subway back uptown to her family’s Harlem apartment. She turned to find Dru exiting the theater behind her and rushing to catch up with her.

      “What’s up?” she asked in as casual a voice as she could muster. She gathered the mass of damp, dark curly hair back with one hand and replaced the ponytail holder she’d removed with the other, never breaking the connection her eyes had made with Dru’s.

      Secretly, she had wanted to make a quick getaway to avoid another run-in with the man. When rehearsals had gotten underway, she’d quickly found out exactly who Mr. Dru Davis was. The word embarrassed didn’t even begin to cover how she felt at not having recognized one of the most influential modern figures in the area of stage. He was the Dru Davis, of Davis Theater Initiatives. Barkley had introduced Dru to the cast, informing them that not only was he the son of the infamous producer Stuart Davis, who’d had a hand in many of the classic Broadway productions over the past thirty years, but that Dru would be serving as a producer for The Salon.

      Dru bore only a passing resemblance to the elder Davis in her opinion, the younger man’s smooth chocolate skin and sensual eyes being disarmingly attractive. From what she remembered from newspaper and magazine photographs of Stuart Davis, Dru was several inches taller, at least six feet three inches, and whereas the father possessed a thin, wiry build, Dru’s muscular frame was discernable even through the plain white T-shirt and dark denim jeans he wore now. In short, the young man’s sex appeal was all his own.

      “I was wondering if you had time to grab a bite with me,” Dru asked.

      Raven’s head began shaking vehemently before her lips could even form the words. She realized immediately from the startled expression on his face that she must have appeared to be having an epileptic fit or something.

      “No…no,” she stammered.

      “No, you don’t have time, or no—”

      “No, I…I can’t. Sorry,” Raven hurried, cutting Dru off.

      She gave her best attempt at a smile, turned and scurried away from him. She could feel his eyes boring into her, which only made her quicken her pace. She wanted to put as many square inches of city sidewalk between herself and Dru Davis as possible, before he had a chance to corner her again. There was no way her resolve could hold up very long under the warmth of his intense gaze.

      By the time she’d boarded a crowded subway car headed uptown, her cheeks were flushed. That feeling definitely did not come from the fast pace of her trek nor the heat of the oppressive underground iron horse, however. No, it was the pallor of embarrassment that had colored her as she replayed the scene with Dru over and over again in her mind. He must think her a complete idiot. A silly, juvenile idiot at that. Why had she run away like a cockroach scurrying under the glare of fluorescent lights? There were two reasons, and while both were equally compelling, the knowledge of that did not make her feel much better. For one, he was the Dru Davis. Essentially, he was the boss, one of the players behind the production that she’d just landed a role in. Her very first production in a brand-new career and there was no way she was going to get involved with one of the bosses and make a name for herself as that girl five minutes out of the gate.

      The second reason caused Raven’s heart